The Child in Time (34 page)

It was only then that they began to exclaim and celebrate, and kiss and nuzzle the waxy head which smelled like a freshly baked bun. For minutes they were beyond forming sentences and could only make noises of triumph and wonder, and say each other’s names aloud. Anchored by its cord, the baby lay with its head resting between its closed fists. It was a beautiful child. Its eyes were open, looking towards the mountain of Julie’s breast. Beyond the bed was the window through which they could see the moon sinking into a gap in the pines. Directly above the moon was a planet. It was Mars, Julie said. It was a reminder of a harsh world. For now, however, they were immune, it was before the beginning of time, and they lay watching planet and moon descend through a sky that was turning blue.

They did not know how much later it was they heard the midwife’s car stop outside the cottage. They heard the slam of its door and the tick of hard shoes on the brick path.

‘Well?’ Julie said. ‘A girl or a boy?’ And it was in acknowledgement of the world they were about to rejoin, and into which they hoped to take their love, that she reached down under the covers and felt.

ALSO BY IAN McEWAN

First Love, Last Rites

In Between the Sheets

The Cement Garden

The Comfort of Strangers

The Innocent

Black Dogs

The Daydreamer

Enduring Love

Amsterdam

Atonement

Saturday

On Chesil Beach